Freddy Grant and Burton Reynolds were married in 2016 using a legal provision for same-sex marriage. Now celebrating their 10-year anniversary, Freddy, 41, reflects on their love, and the political statement of celebrating their wedding a year before Australia voted "Yes" to marriage equality.
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We met in Darwin on the beach in 2009, where Burt was working his first job out of university and I was a backpacker from the UK.
It was on the cusp of my second year of a working holiday visa. I'd been working on a farm with the most racist people to ever met.
And I was also coming out at the time, which was a place to be when you're not so sure of yourself and your sexuality.
I saw Burt at the beach party and picked up a vibe he might be gay. I thought he was cute.
I was playing my ukulele and singing Beatles songs. He eventually came and sat with me. One by one everyone drifted off until it was just the two of us. The rest is history.
We clicked immediately but I had tickets to go back home in a month. So I went home for Christmas but rushed back to Darwin, cancelling my plans to continue my travels around WA.
We went from not knowing what was going to happen to being certain we would be together forever.
We got married during the time when there was large political debate about whether Australians should have a public vote to legalise same-sex marriage.
Our wedding was a political statement, and we knew it would be.
I work in PR and didn't even pitch it — I just knew there would be interest if we did it.
And sure enough, The Age called me as soon as it was booked and asked if they could be at the wedding.
For our marriage to be legal and recognised — under UK law, anyway — it had to be done on British soil and one of the couple had to be British, me.
The options were the British consulate on Collins Street [in Melbourne] or the consul-general's Toorak house, which is where we did it.
Burt has Malaysian heritage and in Malaysia people like us can still face prosecution. We have many queer friends there, and almost none are out to their parents.
The marriage helped his family understand our relationship in a way they hadn't before. It felt more tangible to them.
We just want to enjoy the ordinary parts of life and have the same rights as everyone else.
We wanted to make a statement, and even though we planned to just elope on our lunch break, it turned into more than that.
It felt super romantic. It felt so right and made us so happy.
It was weird having to watch those ads on TV in the lead-up to the vote, about how our marriage shouldn't be allowed.
There was a lot of hate around at the time.
I was disappointed that nearly 40 per cent voted "No" — and that included people in our family.
I remember being at wedding ceremonies and the celebrant would say: "A marriage is between a man and a woman." But some couples would add something like, "We recognise all people should be able to get married." And people would turn and look at me and Burt.
We kind of became poster boys for the cause, which was a bit annoying at times. But we also knew it was important to put positive examples out there — and still is.
I love Burt's smile, his sense of humour, but over the years his loyalty has become one of the things I love most about him.
He always chooses me and that's got a lot to do with how you make a long-term relationship work. Every day choosing each other even though some days you might not get a lot in the morning, or know to tread carefully after work.
We have our own routine and rituals and we don't break them.
It troubles me to see the rise of the manosphere and hard-won rights being debated again, here and overseas.
I do worry the rights generations fought so hard for can be taken away.
It makes our anniversary feel like a moment to reflect not only on how far we've come, but on whether the progress we assume is permanent can ever be taken for granted.